Beautiful Oblivion
by sycoticatalyst
Summary: Hermione's parents dig through their attic and find an old drawing Hermione made: a little boy next to her in the park. Then she realizes her memory of him had been erased. But sometimes the truth is better left unknown...
1. Sane and Logical

_**Beautiful Oblivion**_

**_Disclaimer:_** I don't own any of the characters in this story. I think I own the storyline, but I wouldn't be surprised if it's been done before. Not like anything's original anymore, so whatever.

**_Chapter one:_** Sane and Logical

* * *

'_My name is Hew-my-own-nee, but it's hawd to pwonounce. You can call me My-nee.' The little girl with curly brown hair said, smiling as she stretched out her tiny hand for the other child to take._

'_You have a pwetty name, My-nee. My name is--'_

* * *

Hermione awoke with a start, breathing heavily. She opened her eyes and looked around; she was in her dorm room at Hogwarts, and her window curtains were still closed, which meant that she didn't have to wake up yet. She had them charmed at the beginning of the year to magically open half an hour before breakfast every morning, even on weekends, so the sun would shine directly into her face. However, she had the feeling that she would have to wake up soon anyways. She sighed, having forgotten what her dream had been about already, and got out of her warm bed, slipping her feet into the soft slippers on the floor by her bed. Standing, she stretched her previously tense muscles, and put her bathrobe on before heading out to the bathroom she shared with Malfoy. 

Lately, Hermione had been having dreams, but every time she woke up, she forgot what the dreams had been about. Hermione had gotten used to it; she hadn't been able to remember many of her dreams since she found out that she was a witch. She just shrugged it off as excitement. Besides, she didn't really put much stock in dreams; Divination wasn't exactly her favourite subject. However, she didn't much like that she had been forced awake earlier and earlier by her dreams each day.

She shrugged off her robe and slipped out of the tee-shirt and boxers she wore to bed every night, and stepped into the shower. She turned the handle and sighed happily as the perfectly warm water rained down on her. _The greatest thing about magical showers,_ she thought_, is that there is no sudden burst of cold water before it starts to warm up._ She smiled lazily as the magical water began working at her hair, lathering and rinsing and conditioning her long, thick hair, and leaving behind a vanilla scent. She briefly berated herself for forgetting her wand again; the shower had to be 'programmed', so to speak, and as the shower was shared by her and Malfoy, it was _always_ set to leave a vanilla-y scent. Not that Hermione didn't like it, but she wished she could smell berries or flowers every once in a while.

She turned off the flow of water after she had been in there for fifteen minutes, and waited while the shower quickly dried her completely. She stepped out of the shower and looked into the large mirror, frowning. _I just wish one of these times it would make my hair less frizzy..._ Sighing, she looked at herself critically. Several words sprang to her mind as she glared at her naked reflection: _ugly, fat, pale, flabby.._ She hated the way she looked. She was average height, with wide hips and a waist just as wide. Her curves were practically nonexistent, and the only thing she liked about herself was... _my brain_, she told herself. She smiled, knowing that she could grow to be more comfortable with her body, without actually being beautiful.

Comforted by that thought, as always, she pulled on her night clothes and walked out of the bathroom just in time to see Malfoy emerge sleepily from his own room. Wondering what Malfoy was doing up so early, she paused by the bathroom door. "Morning, Malfoy," she said when she realized that he hadn't noticed her presence.

"Granger.. I don't know how you can wake up so bloody early every bloody day... You ready for the Prefect meeting this morning? 'Cause I don't plan on being awake enough to lead the meeting." He accentuated his comment by yawning loudly.

_Damn,_ Hermione thought, having completely forgotten about the meeting. "Of course I'm ready for it, as usual. It's not like you ever try to lead the meetings either way; I have to be ready for them." She rolled her eyes and walked towards her room to change and get ready for the meeting. As she walked away, she had been expecting a Malfoy Insult to be thrown at her, but all she heard was another yawn as Draco walked into the bathroom.

* * *

A half an hour later, Hermione was sitting in the Great Hall, eating breakfast. She had gathered her notes and was fully prepared to lead the meeting after breakfast. Pausing to take a sip from her orange juice, Hermione looked up to see several owls fly in. She set her juice down as she watched one of them fly straight down towards her, and drop it unceremoniously onto her plate. 

Sighing, Hermione picked the letter up off her pancakes and opened it carefully, not wanting her fingers to get sticky. She read the name at the bottom and smiled, then began to read the letter.

_Dear Hermione,_

_How are you? Is school going well? Your father and I were wondering if you will be coming home for the holidays, as you are Head Girl this year. We've been digging through some old stuff and found a lot of things you might enjoy. There is one particular thing, a drawing, that you might like. Please get back to us soon._

_Love,_

_Mum_

Hermione grinned. She loved to look through her old junk, and she couldn't wait to see her old drawing. She began to fold it up, but paused when her fingers landed in the pancake syrup on the back of the letter. She groaned and set the letter down on the table while she licked the syrup off her fingers. When her fingers were clear of the syrup, she dug her wand out of her pocket and quickly muttered a cleaning charm on the letter. Standing, she tucked her wand and letter into her pocket, then hurried to her room to write a reply to her parents.

On her way up to her room, she passed Draco, who was asleep on the couch in their Common Room. She rolled her eyes and resolved to wake him right before the meeting, with no time for him to eat breakfast.

* * *

All through the meeting, Draco could be seen to be fighting to stay awake. Sometimes he lost the fight, and was nudged awake by Hermione multiple times. Finally, the meeting was over, and Draco and Hermione left for their common room together. When the rest of the prefects had disappeared, and it was just Hermione and Draco, Hermione asked, "Are you feeling alright? You never used to have this problem when we had early morning meetings before." 

"Just can't sleep is all. Nightmares involving Potter and Weasley still being alive. And then I wake up and realize they're not dead yet, and it wasn't a nightmare. My life is," came Draco's groggy response.

Hermione shook her head. He never ceased to amaze. How he could be so tired and still see fit to make sarcastic remarks, Hermione would never know. "Maybe you should take some Dreamless Sleep potion. If you'd like, I can mix up a batch for you tonight. I've been thinking of making some for myself, as we're approaching NEWTs soon, and it wouldn't do to lose sleep from dreams I can't remember."

Draco seemed surprised, and seemed about to agree and let her make him some potion, when a sneer crossed his face. "I think I can stay awake long enough to make my own potion. Besides, I wouldn't want a _Mudblood_ making potions for me, I might catch some filthy muggle disease."

Hermione rolled her eyes, thankful they had reached their common room. She said the password, and they walked into their common room. Immediately, Hermione went up to her room to find a potions book, and she began brewing her Dreamless Sleep potion.

Hours later, Hermione had brewed enough potion to last both her and Draco until the end of the year. She realized, yes, that Draco threw down her offer, but she could tell that he wanted it. Smiling, Hermione left her room to go to lunch.

As she walked toward the door, she heard a sound from Draco's room. She knocked on his door and no answer came. Realizing that he must be asleep, Hermione went back to her room to get some potion to try on him. She slowly opened his bedroom door and quietly walked over to the side of his bed. She parted his lips slightly, then used an eyedropper to administer a dose of the potion.

She watched as he involuntarily swallowed down the potion, and turned in his sleep to get comfortable. Hermione smiled and turned to leave. Shutting the door, she didn't hear him mutter one last thing in his sleep before the potion took effect: "Good bye, My-nee.."

* * *

The following weekend found students packing up and heading home for the holidays. The Weasleys had invited Harry to their home for the break, and were disappointed to hear that Hermione wouldn't be joining them. After she hugged her friends and Mrs. Weasley good-bye, she ran over to her parents and headed home with them. 

After a nice dinner, over which Hermione recounted every single assignment of hers thus far and explained all her Head Girl duties, her mother brought her up to the attic to dig through some old junk. They had found several old books that Hermione was excited to see, some old furniture she could hardly remember, but most importantly they found a peculiar drawing. Hermione had grinned upon first seeing the drawing she had made as a child, but her grin faded when she saw what she drew.

"Mum? Who's that boy next to me? I don't remember having any friends..." Hermione frowned as she examined the picture. She was standing in the park that she used to sit and read in, and right next to her she had drawn a boy about the same height as her, with blue eyes and blond hair.

"I don't know, dear, I thought you would remember. Maybe he was your imaginary friend?" she suggested, before pulling some quilts out of a box. "Oh, look at these! Your grandma made this one when I was pregnant with you, and this one when you were just born..."

Hermione took the quilts gratefully and tried to keep up with her mother's reminiscing, but found her attention often drawn back to the drawing. It wasn't a particularly good drawing; just as good as any other child's drawing, she thought. But there was just something about it...

"You must be exhausted, I shouldn't be boring you with all the junk up here. Go to bed, we can look around again in the morning if you like," her mother offered. Hermione smiled gratefully to her mother and started to follow her out of the attic. On an impulse, she grabbed the drawing, and took it with her to her room to study it. Grateful that she was finally of age to use magic outside of Hogwarts, she pulled out her wand and ran through all the charms she knew.

She remembered a spell that she had read about, but she wasn't sure if it would work with this. The spell had been designed to determine what a writer was writing about, but she supposed that she could just change the first word... After all, she knew Latin, and most spells were just made up of Latin words anyhow... She pointed her wand at the blonde boy and waved it, saying, "_Tractus Nomen_".

Hermione watched, fascinated, as the coloured waxes from the drawing of the boy began to move about the small area he occupied. In her own childish handwriting, the name appeared.

_Ray._

Hermione frowned. She had thought that seeing the name would help her remember, but it only served to confuse her more. She couldn't remember ever having met anyone named 'Ray'; indeed, the only Ray she even knew of was Ray Charles, and he didn't have blonde hair.

Sighing, she muttered, "_Finite Incantatem_", and the wax rearranged itself back to the drawing it was before. After setting the drawing in a drawer, she glanced out her window at the falling snow. She smiled as she gazed at the scenery, so perfectly white and calm. A set of swings in a neighbour's backyard were all swaying slowly with the wind, and a snippet of a memory flashed in her head.

_She was sitting in a swing at the park, kicking at the air, going higher and higher. She was laughing with someone, a boy. He was beating her, but she didn't care. They were having fun._

Grinning, Hermione recorded her memory as quickly as she could in an old notebook she kept from primary school. She tried to focus on the memory of the boy... But when her mind touched on the image of him, she could only remember what clothes he was wearing. She frowned as her mind skirted around the subject of the boy Ray; she still couldn't get over that absence of recognition and instead presented her with useless memories of the smell of the wind, the flowers that were blooming...

Then a thought came to her. _A Pensieve_. She could use a pensieve to view the memory as if it were really happening. She would be able to see what her mind wasn't showing her. She was probably just trying too hard to remember.

Looking around her room, she realized that she didn't have what was needed to make a pensieve. She knew exactly where to find the ingredients, but it would have to wait for daytime. Sighing, she changed into her nightclothes, and went to bed.

* * *

The next day, after breakfast with her parents and a bit more rummaging, Hermione Apparated to Diagon Alley to purchase supplies for her pensieve. When she arrived back home, she immediately went to work on it, and was completely done setting it up within the following two hours (as the Acorus Calamus needed to set for a while in the potion). She concentrated on the memory she recalled the other day, and put the tip of her wand to her temple. She withdrew the memory and placed it in the fresh pensieve, then slipped a finger into the substance as it swirled together. She let herself be pulled into the pensieve, and smiled as she saw the park. The pensieve had worked. 

However, Hermione frowned when she looked upon the children in the swings. Hermione was there, and the boy too, but the boy's face was still blurred. She could make out the outlines of his face and hair, but even in this third-person view she couldn't seem to concentrate on the boy.

She moved closer to the pair as they swung, and she could hear distorted laughter coming from the boy. Hermione frowned and stopped moving. She knew for a fact that pensieves showed everything as if it were a film, showing real happenings up to a mile away. It was like a portal to the past , but without the risk of changing things. Even if she had forgotten what the boy looked and sounded like, the pensieve would show it to her. Unless...

"A memory charm.."

**_

* * *

A/N: Yeah, so it's obvious who it is. I'm not bothering to cover it up for anyone but Herm. The story should get more 'exciting' soon. I have an ending in mind, and I quite like it. Problem will be writing chapter two. I'll try to keep the lengths long for this story, but if I write a little less it won't hurt either. Hope you like; if not, go read something else. Don't bother flaming, all I see in those is poor grammar and personal 'insults' that are untrue and have nothing to do with the story itself. _**

Should probably also post here that no, I'm not under the impression that Draco's eyes are blue, only that all children start out with blue eyes, and some don't grow into their natural color for many years; mine didn't turn green until I was maybe 6 or 7. That, and back in the 80s, there weren't quite so many colors available in crayon boxes, so she might have just settled for blue. Also, I'm almost done with chapter two, and I'm going to change the rating to be on the safe side. It's quite likely that I'll go a bit further than PG-13, even though so far it's quite mild.


	2. Make Me Blind

_**Beautiful Oblivion**_

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own any of the characters in this story. Also, if you're touchy about sexuality, don't read the last paragraph.

_**Chapter Two:**_ Make Me Blind

* * *

_She moved closer to the pair as they swung, and she could hear distorted laughter coming from the boy. Hermione frowned and stopped moving. She knew for a fact that pensieves showed everything as if it were a film, showing real happenings up to a mile away. It was like a portal to the past , but without the risk of changing things. Even if she had forgotten what the boy looked and sounded like, the pensieve would show it to her. Unless..._

"_A memory charm.."_

* * *

"But why would someone put a memory charm on me at such a young age? And why make me forget Ray?" Hermione whispered to her two best friends; winter break had just ended, and the two boys had been dragged immediately to the library by Hermione. 

Ron's eyes widened. "Maybe you're really a pureblood, but your parents thought you would be a squib and abandoned you, and you had a brother who found out about you and went to see you, and when your parents found out they performed memory charms on you!"

Hermione snorted, "What an overactive imagination. Don't be daft, Ron. My parents have pictures of just after I was born, and a videotape of my mum giving birth."

The redhead merely shrugged, as if to say she was in denial but that he wouldn't argue the point.

"Well.. Maybe Ron's right about you being a pureblood.. Or most likely half-blood. Maybe you made friends with someone in the neighbourhood, and one day your dad or mum found out that your friend witnessed some of your accidental magic, and they decided to take a more firm approach than just erasing his memory…" Harry shrugged, indicating that he had absolutely no idea.

Hermione sighed. "Right. Well, there's an essay due in Ancient Runes next week, and I just know I'll be rushing to complete it Tuesday night. I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast."

* * *

_A sob escaped him as he fell onto the hard asphalt, scraping his knee and tearing his cloak. He sat up and put a hand on his wound, then looked over at the state of his broomstick. It looked fine, so he surveyed the area he had landed it. It looked to be a muggle version of a standard playground, full of sand and metal sticks set in odd shapes._

_There was a girl sitting under one such set of metal-stick-contraptions, in an odd chair of sorts. She appeared to be reading, while her legs kicked under her and then out again, causing her chair to move up and down, back and forth. She looked up from her book and tossed a grin his way. "Hullo! Come swing with me!" she called to him, and with only a moment's hesitation (his mother always told him not to talk to strangers, but this girl seemed quite harmless), he pulled his cloak off and covered his broom with it._

_He walked into the oversized sandbox and sat down in the chair next to the girl. "Hello. What's your name?" he asked as she closed her book, which looked to have something to do with bears, and stopped her swinging._

"_My name is—"_

* * *

Draco gasped as he was suddenly forced awake. He looked around him, realizing he had fallen asleep on the couch again. His Transfiguration text had acted as his pillow this time, while his essay lay forgotten on the floor. Of course, his quill would have to be tossed; the ink he used caused irreparable damage to his custom quills if left to dry. He was certain there was a way to prevent that, but he was growing tired of the quill anyhow. 

Wondering what had woken him, he sat up and looked behind him. The bathroom door was closed, but the shower wasn't yet running, so Granger must have shut the door a bit too loudly. He sighed; at least he hadn't overslept. Now, if only he could remember that dream… He could vaguely recall something about bears, and a giant sandbox. He snickered as he imagined a pack of bears walking into the giant sandbox in a large circle, trapping all the first years and proceeding to devour them one by one…

A shout startled him out of his daydream, followed by a muffled groan and a string of unintelligible words. He grinned, remembering that there was a reason he hadn't gone to his bed the previous night. The bathroom door opened, and the Gryffindor stepped out with a towel wrapped around her torso, a glare fixed directly at Draco. "Malfoy, would you mind telling me exactly what a coral snake is doing in the shower?"

He shrugged. "Maybe he's dirty?" He smiled innocently as she rolled her eyes. "What's the matter, Granger, don't like snakes?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow and held up her hand, which he hadn't noticed had been behind her back. The red and gold snake was coiled happily around her wrist and between her fingers, her thumb free to pet the tiny snake calmly.

"On the contrary, Malfoy, I just didn't realize you were the type to give beautiful presents to your enemies." She smiled, then held her hand up to her face and, locking eyes with Draco as his smile faded, kissed the snake on the back of its head. A strange feeling came over him, and he was suddenly thankful that the couch didn't face the bathroom and therefore limited her view of him to just above the torso. "I'd name him after you, to show how grateful I am, but I'm not sure he'd enjoy being called 'Ferret'."

He scowled as she reentered the bathroom, closing the door softly behind her. _Well, that plan backfired magnificently…_ He got off the couch and stalked to his own room, slamming the door behind him and letting himself fall onto his large overstuffed bed. A shudder ran through him, a shudder he hadn't realized he had been holding back since Granger had kissed that snake, a shudder that felt more like lust than disgust. His scowl deepened; she wasn't all that pretty, and she had almost no curves to speak of, so there was no reason to suddenly be filled with lust.

But while his mind agreed with him on this matter, his body disagreed entirely. However, if he had to have such a disagreement with his body, he was quite grateful he had been sitting mostly out of her view when it happened. He decided, as his traitorous hand twitched, that it had to have been because of the snake. _Oh, like that makes it any better, getting turned on by a damn snake?_ Giving in to his body, he made up his mind that he just would just obliviate himself afterwards, and let the memory overtake him. The sparkle in her eyes, the tease of her lips on his snake, and he imagined that it was him she was kissing, a wanton gleam in her eyes as their gazes locked…

* * *

A/N: Shorter than the first chapter, I know, but I can't think of a way to follow up that last scene without starting a new chapter. Also, I know some of you will be disgusted by the bestiality reference, but you'll just have to get over it because snakes have become a metaphor for masculinity and, of course, the penis. So no, he wasn't turned on by the snake, but by the seductive quality of Hermione kissing the symbol of masculinity. And maybe the teasing look in her eyes. 


End file.
